So, she brooded over the fact, if she thought of it at all, which normally she simply did not do! It was a Tuesday night, with autumn getting one last...chance to imitate summer. Some called it ‘indian summer’, in some cultures it was called, strangely ‘babske leto’ or ‘grandma’s summer’ but it was in reality, for Susie Warren, the summer of her Susie Party, the summer of her letting go, the summer of her being finished, the summer of putting old Clement up on the shelf where his copperhead ass. She was taking her time. Her armpits were unshaven, and the hair was soft and fine. I stumbled on her bra and she stopped kissing me to help. Her breasts were small and pale, her skin was flawless. She had a little more hair around her nipples; I bent and gently kissed them, lips and tongue slowly circling. As much as I wanted to move faster, she had set the pace, and I was enjoying every long minute of it.She stood me up and took off my pants and boxers. My boxers were soaked with seminal. More

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